Parallels may be drawn where they may. Some choices cannot be made, they just Are. There exists the possibility for anything to happen; and Parallels? They remain nevertheless.
Aeolia, The City, dominates most of the landscape of Aeolia, the Land. A vast, conical, conglomeration of buildings of every size and shape inhabited by some thirty million souls, of which a full half live within the central core where it is doubtful that they ever see any ‘real’ daylight or feel the rain on their faces, but they endure it for the sheer quality of life associated with the technological wonders of the metropolis.
I have difficulty with describing Aeolia because it is so different. I come from out under the stars where the wind blows and the rain soaks the ground. Except that now I learn that what I thought was the wild blue yonder is in fact a mirage, a figment of a designers imagination and a computer program.
Allow me time to explain what Aeolia is really like, and how I came to be here.
I have difficulty with describing Aeolia because it is so different. I come from out under the stars where the wind blows and the rain soaks the ground. Except that now I learn that what I thought was the wild blue yonder is in fact a mirage, a figment of a designers imagination and a computer program.
Allow me time to explain what Aeolia is really like, and how I came to be here.
I was born in a small, bare room on the farm belonging to Dale and his family. My parents were workers for him along with a number of other families all of whom shared a block of apartments Dale had specially built for the purpose. Mother did the cooking for the whole farm-community while my father was retained as the carpenter. So the first few years of my life were spent hovering between kitchen and workshop. I can remember that we were happy and that is about it really because at the age of five I became an orphan. I then went to live with my aunt and uncle (my fathers brother) in the village (Riverdale) where I stayed until the age of fifteen. Aunt Iris ran the bakery shop in the village square. She worked strange hours and enjoyed her work to the full always giving time to the customers, she had set up a table in the corner of the shop and would encourage people to have a cup of tea and take the weight off their feet. She had time for me also, she taught me the basics of right and wrong along with reading and writing.
Uncle Jerald had charge of the smithy that sat in the corner of the square across from the bakery and the locals brought along their wheels and horses, carts and cooking pots for shoeing or repair. It was here I learned many of the skills that stood me in good stead in later life. Jerald was a practical man and instilled in me a simple understanding that if something needs doing then it is best to get on and do it to the best of your ability. It is not a lesson I learned at the time though.
Life was good and I had many friends in the boys and girls of the other shopkeepers and traders of the village. I have vivid memories of the high-days and holidays and it is those festivals that make up most of my early memories, mainly because of the adventure of being away from the village.
Riverdale has evolved over a hundred years or so and has settled down into a market town with thriving farm communities all around and it sits in the south-east corner of Aeolia. To the South and West the Blue Mountains dominate the skyline and the whole district nestles in the shelter of their foothills.
Crops grow on the plains to the East and dairy herds, cattle and sheep, graze across the hills to the South and during long summers Karl and I along with a few of the younger children would venture out into those foothills as far as the river that flows fast through the gully it has carved out in the rock over time. In places sheer drops of twenty-five or thirty metres make access to the river impossible without ropes but further downstream it is possible to clamber down the bank and fishing becomes an option in the more placid waters. It was during one of these trips that my interest in what might lay beyond the mountains ridges first planted itself in my mind.
We had been engaged in a wrestling match and Kaarl had gained the upper hand due to his extra weight and I lay on my back and saw the mountain loom upside-down above me. It made me feel dizzy, the sheer scale of it filled me with a feeling of being so very small and in danger of being overwhelmed. I was also in danger of being overwhelmed by Kaarl so I called a truce and he released me from the hold. I recalled the incident later that night as I gazed at the stars from my bedroom window.
The size of the mountain had been big enough to fill my mind but coupled with the idea that there was also room out there for all those stars was making my head spin and I went to bed and dreamed strange dreams of rooms with no doors that had no walls and seemed to go on forever.
The thought that there might be more to the world than I could see became a constant companion from then on. It was awakened again during my first trek to Central Fayre.
I looked out of the bedroom window to behold another sunny day. A sense of excitement came over me as I remembered what day it was; today the trek to Central began.
These treks occurred twice a year in spring and autumn. In spring the cattle are driven across the plains to Central, where they are slaughtered and despatched to the city or north to Lakeside who, in their turn trade fish and furniture, furs and feathers. The autumnal trek is the time of the harvest and a caravan of carts and wagons loaded to the top with produce creak and groan their way along the trail. Central is not a town or village in the accepted sense, it only exists for the time of the fayre. The rest of the time it lays dormant and consists only of a series of roped off areas for the vendors to erect their traditional tents with a few more permanent structures dotted about to house cattle and the drinking dens.
Hurriedly I dressed, ate breakfast then I grabbed the pack that had been lying in wait for nearly a week and fled out into the square.
Aunt Iris called me back before I had got very far and gave me a parcel of bread to deliver to a customer on the opposite side of the village. With a sigh I took the package and ran all the way there and most of the way back. I had slowed to catch my breath when I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see Kaarl puffing loudly to catch up.
“I called at home for you,” he gasped, “your aunt said where she had sent you, I did not think I would have to do a lap of the village to find you. Where are you going?” He said all this as he slowed and fell in beside me.
“I wanted to see the horses being harnessed, uncle Jerald said he was going to let Keet handle the harnessing for the experience, so I came this way.” I looked at my friend whose cheeks glowed in the still cool morning. “You’ll have to lose some weight, you have gone very red.”
“My father thinks this trip will help me lose some weight, he has threatened to make me walk all the way if I don’t behave!”
I laughed at the idea Kaarl of walking five hundred kilometres, even though’ I had no concept of the distance.
When we reached the square we found a scene of mild confusion. Keet, not at all sure of himself, was not having a great deal of success with the team of horses in his charge and a couple of the beasts where snorting and stamping their feet alarmingly. The other stable hands were shouting advice and dashing about trying to grab the loose reigns and only served to make matters worse.
Jerald was a big man with a loud voice that belied his normal gentle manner. His face was dark as he restored order, none to pleased at Keets lack of confidence. He restored order and ticked-off the lad then calmly talked to the horses and picked the loose traces off the ground and backed the still snorting animal into place. Within a short time thereafter he led the first of the many wagons out into the square where many people had gathered to see them off and hand over last minute gifts and food for the journey.
The trek takes some time and is achieved in stages, stopping off at established staging-posts along the way. A week before the trek begins an advance party set out to provision the staging posts in anticipation of their arrival then they make their way onto the fayre to begin trading.
Kaarl sat on the tailboard of a wagon that was heavily laden with giant barrels filled with the juice of grapes grown on the lower slopes and now deemed fit enough to trade, and he munched on an apple.
I walked alongside chiding him. “That is the third apple you’ve eaten since we left. At this rate there will be none left to sell. Besides you should be walking, I saw your father coming down trail, I imagine he is looking for you.”
“All right. I’ll walk for a while.” He jumped down and joined me, “Do you think we will get to the first stage before dark?” he asked.
“I don't know, perhaps we should go and ask uncle Jerald, he’ll know. Let’s wait for him.”
We walked off the trail and sat down by the roadside, waving at the wagon drivers as they passed. Eventually Jerald came by riding a huge grey mare, he pulled over to where we sat.
“You’ll not get far like that.” He gazed down at us from on high.
“Kaarl is worried that we won’t make shelter before nightfall.” Said I, reaching up to stroke the neck of the mare. I produced an apple of my own from my pocket and fed it to the animal who nuzzled at my shoulder. “Hello Ash, have a quick munch.”
“Hold him Daevy lad, I’ll stretch my legs with you for a while.” He flung a long leg over the head of the horse and slid to the ground.
I held the reigns and walked the grey and Jerald placed a hand on each of our shoulders, “So you think we’ll be out in the dark do you?” He said smiling. “No fear of that. we should be able to see Firstpost from the top of this rise. It’ll not take long after that.”
“Can we ride on Ash please?” I asked.
“Of course you can, I’ll go and have a word with the Warden while you do.” So saying he hoisted the two of us onto the back of the big grey handed me the reigns and wandered across the road to wave down the Warden who rode along in the company of the following cart.
From the back of the horse we had a fine view and in the far distance the blue smudge of the mountains caused me to ask how far away Kaarl thought they were.
“Farther than I want to go tonight, thank you,” he replied, “I’m looking forward to supper.”
Jerald returned and Kaarl voiced my question.
The man paused while he gazed at the mountains in question. “How Far? Well if you take account of the fact that from one end of Aeolia to the other is four thousand kilometres, then you think that it is nearly two thousand wide and you remember that we are travelling more or less straight down the middle; then I would say that over there is about three hundred and fifty kilometres. Would that be far enough for you?”
“What is beyond the mountains?” I asked, my mind still trying hard to grasp the idea of four thousand kilometres. I had know idea things went so far. Even Firstpost was a lot further than I had imagined.
“Nothing.” Came the short answer.
“How can there be nothing.”
Jerald sighed heavily as he always did when confronted with a difficult question. “Well I cannot say how the nothing came to be, but I can tell you that at the top of the mountain Mikel and I climbed there was nothing. I have spoken to others who have made the climb and they are in agreement, there is nothing there.”
“But what sort of nothing?” I persisted.
“Mist. A grey mist that goes on forever, we reached the top and started walking into it and got completely lost and giddy and eventually we ended up back where we started. It was not a nice experience. And now, if you don’t mind, I would like my horse back so I can go about my duties.” He lifted us from the horse and remounted. “Don’t get lost, supper won’t be long.”
He rode off leaving us to trudge down the hill toward the string of camp fires that shone brightly in the gathering evening and giving promise of hot food and a welcome mug of wine. By the time we reached the staging post the food was being served and we took our places quickly and tucked in ravenously.
Later when supper was eaten and I had taken a walk with Jerald to check the horses I came across Kaarl eating yet another apple as he leaned against the wheel of a wagon gazing out across the plains to the east. I sank down beside him and accepted an offered apple, took a bite and followed Kaarls stare.
Stars shone brightly in the deepening gloom and I automatically started naming them to myself, running through the list in my mind. “What do you make of it then?”
“What?” Kaarl looked round at me.
“All that out there. What do you think?”
“I don’t know what I think. I was wondering whether I ought to have another apple or save it in case I get hungry in the night. I’m off to bed, you coming?”
I chuckled. “No, not yet. I’ll finish this first. See you in the morning. Goodnight.”
I returned my gaze to the stars. I didn’t care what Jerald said, I was sure there must be something out there.
Uncle Jerald had charge of the smithy that sat in the corner of the square across from the bakery and the locals brought along their wheels and horses, carts and cooking pots for shoeing or repair. It was here I learned many of the skills that stood me in good stead in later life. Jerald was a practical man and instilled in me a simple understanding that if something needs doing then it is best to get on and do it to the best of your ability. It is not a lesson I learned at the time though.
Life was good and I had many friends in the boys and girls of the other shopkeepers and traders of the village. I have vivid memories of the high-days and holidays and it is those festivals that make up most of my early memories, mainly because of the adventure of being away from the village.
Riverdale has evolved over a hundred years or so and has settled down into a market town with thriving farm communities all around and it sits in the south-east corner of Aeolia. To the South and West the Blue Mountains dominate the skyline and the whole district nestles in the shelter of their foothills.
Crops grow on the plains to the East and dairy herds, cattle and sheep, graze across the hills to the South and during long summers Karl and I along with a few of the younger children would venture out into those foothills as far as the river that flows fast through the gully it has carved out in the rock over time. In places sheer drops of twenty-five or thirty metres make access to the river impossible without ropes but further downstream it is possible to clamber down the bank and fishing becomes an option in the more placid waters. It was during one of these trips that my interest in what might lay beyond the mountains ridges first planted itself in my mind.
We had been engaged in a wrestling match and Kaarl had gained the upper hand due to his extra weight and I lay on my back and saw the mountain loom upside-down above me. It made me feel dizzy, the sheer scale of it filled me with a feeling of being so very small and in danger of being overwhelmed. I was also in danger of being overwhelmed by Kaarl so I called a truce and he released me from the hold. I recalled the incident later that night as I gazed at the stars from my bedroom window.
The size of the mountain had been big enough to fill my mind but coupled with the idea that there was also room out there for all those stars was making my head spin and I went to bed and dreamed strange dreams of rooms with no doors that had no walls and seemed to go on forever.
The thought that there might be more to the world than I could see became a constant companion from then on. It was awakened again during my first trek to Central Fayre.
I looked out of the bedroom window to behold another sunny day. A sense of excitement came over me as I remembered what day it was; today the trek to Central began.
These treks occurred twice a year in spring and autumn. In spring the cattle are driven across the plains to Central, where they are slaughtered and despatched to the city or north to Lakeside who, in their turn trade fish and furniture, furs and feathers. The autumnal trek is the time of the harvest and a caravan of carts and wagons loaded to the top with produce creak and groan their way along the trail. Central is not a town or village in the accepted sense, it only exists for the time of the fayre. The rest of the time it lays dormant and consists only of a series of roped off areas for the vendors to erect their traditional tents with a few more permanent structures dotted about to house cattle and the drinking dens.
Hurriedly I dressed, ate breakfast then I grabbed the pack that had been lying in wait for nearly a week and fled out into the square.
Aunt Iris called me back before I had got very far and gave me a parcel of bread to deliver to a customer on the opposite side of the village. With a sigh I took the package and ran all the way there and most of the way back. I had slowed to catch my breath when I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see Kaarl puffing loudly to catch up.
“I called at home for you,” he gasped, “your aunt said where she had sent you, I did not think I would have to do a lap of the village to find you. Where are you going?” He said all this as he slowed and fell in beside me.
“I wanted to see the horses being harnessed, uncle Jerald said he was going to let Keet handle the harnessing for the experience, so I came this way.” I looked at my friend whose cheeks glowed in the still cool morning. “You’ll have to lose some weight, you have gone very red.”
“My father thinks this trip will help me lose some weight, he has threatened to make me walk all the way if I don’t behave!”
I laughed at the idea Kaarl of walking five hundred kilometres, even though’ I had no concept of the distance.
When we reached the square we found a scene of mild confusion. Keet, not at all sure of himself, was not having a great deal of success with the team of horses in his charge and a couple of the beasts where snorting and stamping their feet alarmingly. The other stable hands were shouting advice and dashing about trying to grab the loose reigns and only served to make matters worse.
Jerald was a big man with a loud voice that belied his normal gentle manner. His face was dark as he restored order, none to pleased at Keets lack of confidence. He restored order and ticked-off the lad then calmly talked to the horses and picked the loose traces off the ground and backed the still snorting animal into place. Within a short time thereafter he led the first of the many wagons out into the square where many people had gathered to see them off and hand over last minute gifts and food for the journey.
The trek takes some time and is achieved in stages, stopping off at established staging-posts along the way. A week before the trek begins an advance party set out to provision the staging posts in anticipation of their arrival then they make their way onto the fayre to begin trading.
Kaarl sat on the tailboard of a wagon that was heavily laden with giant barrels filled with the juice of grapes grown on the lower slopes and now deemed fit enough to trade, and he munched on an apple.
I walked alongside chiding him. “That is the third apple you’ve eaten since we left. At this rate there will be none left to sell. Besides you should be walking, I saw your father coming down trail, I imagine he is looking for you.”
“All right. I’ll walk for a while.” He jumped down and joined me, “Do you think we will get to the first stage before dark?” he asked.
“I don't know, perhaps we should go and ask uncle Jerald, he’ll know. Let’s wait for him.”
We walked off the trail and sat down by the roadside, waving at the wagon drivers as they passed. Eventually Jerald came by riding a huge grey mare, he pulled over to where we sat.
“You’ll not get far like that.” He gazed down at us from on high.
“Kaarl is worried that we won’t make shelter before nightfall.” Said I, reaching up to stroke the neck of the mare. I produced an apple of my own from my pocket and fed it to the animal who nuzzled at my shoulder. “Hello Ash, have a quick munch.”
“Hold him Daevy lad, I’ll stretch my legs with you for a while.” He flung a long leg over the head of the horse and slid to the ground.
I held the reigns and walked the grey and Jerald placed a hand on each of our shoulders, “So you think we’ll be out in the dark do you?” He said smiling. “No fear of that. we should be able to see Firstpost from the top of this rise. It’ll not take long after that.”
“Can we ride on Ash please?” I asked.
“Of course you can, I’ll go and have a word with the Warden while you do.” So saying he hoisted the two of us onto the back of the big grey handed me the reigns and wandered across the road to wave down the Warden who rode along in the company of the following cart.
From the back of the horse we had a fine view and in the far distance the blue smudge of the mountains caused me to ask how far away Kaarl thought they were.
“Farther than I want to go tonight, thank you,” he replied, “I’m looking forward to supper.”
Jerald returned and Kaarl voiced my question.
The man paused while he gazed at the mountains in question. “How Far? Well if you take account of the fact that from one end of Aeolia to the other is four thousand kilometres, then you think that it is nearly two thousand wide and you remember that we are travelling more or less straight down the middle; then I would say that over there is about three hundred and fifty kilometres. Would that be far enough for you?”
“What is beyond the mountains?” I asked, my mind still trying hard to grasp the idea of four thousand kilometres. I had know idea things went so far. Even Firstpost was a lot further than I had imagined.
“Nothing.” Came the short answer.
“How can there be nothing.”
Jerald sighed heavily as he always did when confronted with a difficult question. “Well I cannot say how the nothing came to be, but I can tell you that at the top of the mountain Mikel and I climbed there was nothing. I have spoken to others who have made the climb and they are in agreement, there is nothing there.”
“But what sort of nothing?” I persisted.
“Mist. A grey mist that goes on forever, we reached the top and started walking into it and got completely lost and giddy and eventually we ended up back where we started. It was not a nice experience. And now, if you don’t mind, I would like my horse back so I can go about my duties.” He lifted us from the horse and remounted. “Don’t get lost, supper won’t be long.”
He rode off leaving us to trudge down the hill toward the string of camp fires that shone brightly in the gathering evening and giving promise of hot food and a welcome mug of wine. By the time we reached the staging post the food was being served and we took our places quickly and tucked in ravenously.
Later when supper was eaten and I had taken a walk with Jerald to check the horses I came across Kaarl eating yet another apple as he leaned against the wheel of a wagon gazing out across the plains to the east. I sank down beside him and accepted an offered apple, took a bite and followed Kaarls stare.
Stars shone brightly in the deepening gloom and I automatically started naming them to myself, running through the list in my mind. “What do you make of it then?”
“What?” Kaarl looked round at me.
“All that out there. What do you think?”
“I don’t know what I think. I was wondering whether I ought to have another apple or save it in case I get hungry in the night. I’m off to bed, you coming?”
I chuckled. “No, not yet. I’ll finish this first. See you in the morning. Goodnight.”
I returned my gaze to the stars. I didn’t care what Jerald said, I was sure there must be something out there.
1 comment:
I can relate with that, I think something has to be out there too.
Good Reading cat
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